frustration
restless bee
the air is filled with
pollen dust.
your fleeting satisfaction
at sweet thick dark haired dreams.
the bleached day
turns to pale half light.
all colours are drained to faded oatmeal,
clothes discoloured grey,
so you close your eyes.
you close your eyes and see red.
obvious, the night pours in around you
and you stand eyes closed
all is red
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